At few weeks ago a friend needed a ride back home from the Kaiser Permanente hospital after a short outpatient procedure. After I pulled into the pick-up area, I had to wait for a few minutes for them to wheel her out to the car. This guy was waiting for someone too, but he wasn’t sitting in his car the way I was. He was standing beside it, leaning on the left front door and staring at nothing in particular and drumming his fingers against his thigh. He seemed to be contemplating something sad and important. I had a feeling that whoever he was waiting for had had a little more than a simple outpatient procedure.